


(This Title Is) Coming Soon

by roxymissrose



Category: Smallville
Genre: M/M, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-27
Updated: 2011-03-27
Packaged: 2017-10-17 07:01:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/174151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roxymissrose/pseuds/roxymissrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clark, Lex, and Whitney decide on a perfect way to spend an early summer day. Please cue the porn track….</p>
            </blockquote>





	(This Title Is) Coming Soon

I  
From the sheltering shade of a stand of _Ailanthus Altissima_ at the edge of the McDowell's parking lot, Lex watched the football team and various school-spirited volunteers swarm around the Porsche, eager to earn dollars and mostly to touch a really hot car—the closest most of them would ever get to a car like it. They were practically drooling to touch it, and normally he'd have enjoyed laughing in their faces and leaving them gagging in a cloud of dust but his best friend was volunteering and if it helped to make Clark a little more acceptable to the assholes in this town, than fine. He was willing to sacrifice his paint job. _God Clark, what I do for you…would like to do to you…_ Granted the grey Porsche was hardly his favorite, and he'd been meaning to dump it anyway….

The quarterback was directing the team, and carefully making sure no one not on the team was approaching the car which meant Clark was shoved to the back of the group waving sponges and chamois…Lex was not pleased.

There would be no Clark in a tight white t-shirt and denim cut-off shorts, cut off *very* short, getting drenched in water and fluffy thick suds in slow motion, soaked clothing sucking lovingly to his tall, lean, hard…Lex blinked. Well. That had been an interesting excursion into fantasy land. He coughed slightly and shifted, put his hands in his pockets. Sadly, in reality, Clark was dry as a bone and wearing his usual red tee and baggy old jeans. Shame.

No, instead of Clark wet and shining in the sun, it was the quarterback--Whitney, as Clark insisted on reminding him, was washing his car. *He* was the one in the white (too big t-shirt) rubbing against his car, in polyester basketball shorts (way too big). Rubbing. Dragging, actually. Pressing his…um. Whit leaned over and Lex got a good long look at what was actually a pretty nice ass. Not too bad at all. No wonder the Lang girl was having some trouble choosing. Soaking wet, blonde hair falling over his forehead, almost clear t-shirt clinging to his nipples, caressing sculpted abs…hunh. Not too shabby. Not Clark by any means but not bad--not bad at all. Whit stood upright and Lex glanced down. _Well, look at that…_ Wet polyester and a nice package made for a happy afternoon…

Clark came bounding past, with a bucket of fresh water and a couple of towels around his neck. He tossed a towel to Whit and Whit caught it by reflex…and smiled, rather more, Lex thought, than getting a thin grey scrap of terrycloth called for. He raised an eyebrow, pursed his lips, and moved back further into the shade, to watch.

Clark was smiling…*smiling* at Whit as he wiped his face. Clark looked pleased, especially pleased as Whit tipped his head back and slowly rubbed the towel over his face like—like—cheap amateur porn. Not that Lex had a lot of experience with cheap porn.

Lex was not smiling. And Whit…Whit seemed…confused/pleased. Lex observed, and seethed. Clark watched, and smiled. Lana came up and broke whatever spell had been trying to coalesce in the McDowell's parking lot. It was an odd experience, Lex thought, to want to…hug her.

Whit strolled over to Lex, all cocky smile and thick blonde hair. "Your car's done," he said. "All done." He looked back at the car like he was looking back at a fabulously skilled stripper. "It's a beautiful car, Mr. Luthor."

"Do me a favor Whit, call me Lex. You make me feel like an old man." _High school bastard. Mr. Luthor, my ass…_

"Okay," he grinned—he was trying to be polite, but his eyes kept darting sideways, looking at the car. "Beautiful…" he murmured.

From across the lot, Clark was watching them, the tiniest bit of a frown pushing his lower lip out a bit. Something rose up in Lex, and seized the reins of good sense. "You want a ride?" Lex asked and winced inside. _good lord, all we need now is to cue the porn track_ , he scolded himself.

Whit gasped, "For real? Hell yeah, I want a ride—you're going to let me get in the car? I mean—not filthy and sweaty like this I know but…wow."

 _filthy…sweaty…_ "Come over later on, and we can take it out. Sound good?" _what the fuck…_

"Fu—heck yeah!" Whit grinned. "Thanks! Oh, and that's ten bucks for the wash."

Lex smirked. "Here's twenty. I saw that you gave it…special care."

He drove off with the sight of Clark in his rear view mirror, looking a little of angry—a lot angry. He hadn't even told Clark good-bye…he had to reach down and adjust himself—imagining Clark jealous made him happy. And horny.

II  
Whit changed his jeans three times. The first pair had rivets—too dangerous, what if he accidentally scratched Luthor's paint? The second pair were too loose. He didn’t know why he thought that, he just did. Too…baggy, loose…something. The third pair he thought were all right. He should have put them on first. He'd got them in the city with Lana, and since she'd picked them out, they must look good on him, and they were pretty close to designer stuff so Luth—Lex—might not think he was too much of a loser. He was a little worried about the holes here and there that Lana'd said was a good thing, what if people weren't doing that any more and Lex thought he was stupid? Why the hell was he worrying about it—it was just Lex. More to the point, he was grabbing a ride with a *guy*. Who could give a fuck what he looked like. He pushed the pants a little lower on his hips. He sniffed his pits, shrugged and put another coat of deodorant on, grabbed a shirt off the pile on his desk chair and smelled it—good enough. Besides, he already had nice pants on. He slipped the mostly clean band tee on and left for Lex's and the ride of his life. This was going to be great—he couldn't wait. He refused to even think that maybe…maybe Lex would let him…nah. Never happen.

III  
Clark admitted to himself he was moping around like a twelve year old, getting on his folks' nerves, getting on his own nerves. He finally escaped to the loft, his parents' grateful sighs ushering him out the door.

He knew he was being stupid. It wasn’t like he had some exclusive lock on Lex's friendship—in fact, it was great that Lex was getting friendly with folks in town—it was good for the business, good for Lex. It was just…what was sticking in his craw, as Dad would say, was the fact that Lex asked *Whit* to drive with him. He didn't even like Whit, and Clark was pretty sure it wasn't just on his account. Okay, maybe Lex's plan was for Clark to call Lana while Whit was dashing all over the country side in Lex's car. Which was not a bad idea. It would give him a chance to talk to her and he guessed it was Lex's idea of strategy. He thought about her today, in her t-shirt tied up under her boobs, and her short, short, butt hugging shorts. When she bent over, they'd pulled tight around her like Whit's hands and he bet they molded right to her crotch, those wet tight shorts. _bet she had no undies on_ …Clark groaned just a bit…so hot…not like Whit's shorts, all loose…he didn’t think Whit was wearing underwear either--he was sure he'd seen—but just because it was *so* obvious—he'd seen his stuff moving around in the loose hold of those shorts, bumping against the material as he dashed back and forth getting rags and stuff, being the big boss.

Clark thought about how Whit had taken over washing Lex's Porsche like it was his. Pressing up against the sun warm metal--Clark knew how that felt, warm smooth metal, rubbing his cock against it, rubbing while he was talking to Lex. Lex looking at him, through narrowed eyes, his lips pursed a little like he did sometimes and staring right into the middle of his brain. The Lex in his head knew what Clark was doing, rubbing off on his car, wanting it to be Lex's _ass_ …Clark realized his eyes were nearly closed and his hand had somehow found its way into his own shorts…he shuddered as his hand slid down his cock until it bumped against the crown…whoop. His eyes flew open and he yanked his hand out of his pants. _Sure, jerk off in the loft, cock out on the couch. Fun times explaining to Dad or Mom if they were to come up the stairs._ He slid his hand out of his waist band and sat up.

 _Hey, wait a minute…is that the truck?_

He hung his head out of the loft doors and Mom and Dad waved up at him with big smiles.

"Clark, your mom and I are going downtown," Dad called up, and Mom piped up too.

"Date night," and they both laughed, and twinkled at each other. It was cute…and kind of scary because there was an awful lot of giggling going on. Clark made a face and pulled his head back. Okay, this was definitely a 'sleep out in the loft with the TV on loud' night. But, the silver lining was they'd be gone for a good while, so…he waited until he couldn't hear the truck anymore and settled back on the couch. Now that he was alone, he could turn his mind to his newest and favorite fantasy, even better than the one where Lana fell in the horse trough and he had to help her out and dry her off. No, this one, this one made him come like stars…

He shoved his shorts under his ass and his cock was jerking, swelling to fit the tunnel of his fist. He closed his eyes and sighed, snuggled his ass into the lumpy couch pillows and licked his lips. "Go ahead, Lex," he muttered, "You know you've been drooling for this..."

 _DreamLex was on his knees in front of him, running his hands over and over Clark's thighs. "Oh, yes," DreamLex said, "I've been dying to get your cock in my mouth…" mmm, wait, this was better… "I've been dying for you to rub your cock all over my face, come on me, paint me with your manjuice…oh, oh yeah, that was *much* better…_

IV  
Whit felt like he was flying—Lex was driving just—crazy fast, and it was so much damn fun, he couldn't stop laughing. Lex whipped the Porsche around a corner so fast that Whit heard the tires squeal, and felt the car try to slew and Whit threw his head back and laughed some more. "You're going to kill us, you crazy son-ofa-bitch!" he shouted, half admiring, half scared shitless. Hell, if Lex was cool with it, than so the fuck was he.

"No I won’t," Lex grinned. "I'm an excellent driver…" he said it with an odd inflection, and Whit looked at him, before snorting, laughing again.

"Yeah, you're an excellent driver, Rainman." Lex was funny…who would have thought that? He always looked so fucking serious, like he was sucking a lemon or something…he turned his head towards him and Lex had his eyes on the road, and a big grin on his face, and he looked—twelve. Whit felt something warm flip in his chest. Poor fucker—he probably hardly ever had just a plain old good time. Always at the plant—and he probably spent lots of time at those balls and shit, fund-raisers like Dad had to go to once in a while. He bet even though Lex's fundraisers were probably bigger, fancier, they sucked as much ass as the ones Dad had to attend. And when he wasn't doing that shit, he was hanging at the Beanery--with Clark. Mr. Excitement.

Whit shook his head. Lex was a young guy, hell, Lex was a pretty damn hot guy really, even he could see that; he should be partying on weekends, not working, or fuck, driving some kid around in his car.

"Faster?" Lex asked, with a little sideways smirk that made Whit smirk back.

"Fuck yeah—" Whit's head flew back and hit the headrest, and they were tearing down a straight away, long trails of beige dust fanning out behind them, tires bouncing over the uneven road surface. Whit was whooping, his heart was hammering in his throat, blood was racing through his veins and—shit. Heading south. He couldn't help it, something about flying down this road, in this hot car, Lex's maniacal grin—fuck. He was getting hard, and it was confusing—was it the car or the guy? Lana claimed everyone had someone on the planet they were gay for…was Lex his someone? 'Cause when she'd said that, he thought it was a prelude to her edging him into a threesome…he kinda thought she meant Chloe which was hot, yeah, way hot but….  
Kinda hoped in the smallest, tiniest, most ignored corner of his mind, that she meant Clark.

But Lex?

Lex slowed right before the road took a big curve to head back into Smallville, and Whit licked his lips…he was going to do it. He was going to find out if Lex just wanted a co-pilot, or--

Lex said, "Let's go over to the Kent farm and pick up Clark—he'd like this too."

"Hunh?" Whit heard the confused outrage in his voice and tried to cover. "Clark? But--sure. Sounds like a *ton* of fun."

Lex looked over at him. "It's not like I don't know you guys have a competition of sorts over Lana. Maybe you two could talk, with a neutral party between you, you might come to some sort of agreement, hmm?"

 _between you._ Whit felt a little shiver race all the way down his spine…and lower. _Fight back_ …Whit growled, "What's it to you? I mean, excuse me but it's not like I don't know who *you* think is the right guy for her."  
.

Lex reached over and jabbed a leather gloved finger into the side of Whit's knee. It was like being stabbed with a hot poker. "Are you sure about what I'm thinking?"

Whit locked his hands together and shoved his arms between his knees, right over where the shiver lodged. How did the guy manage to make that sound so dirty? He concentrated on killing his hard-on before they pulled up in the Kent driveway.

V  
Lex roared towards the Kent farm. This was going to be…fun. He couldn’t wait to see Clark's face. He was going to flaunt this jock like a god damn flag. If he'd really seen what he thought he'd seen earlier…

He glanced over at Whit. There seemed to be something going on that he wasn't picking up on. Lex frowned. He was misreading something. Whit resolutely glowered through the windshield. Damn. They passed the Kent truck on the way, and Lex sent a silent prayer of thanks skyward that he was doing the speed limit. He and Whit waved as the drove past, and Jonathan sent a pained smile his way. Martha looked entirely more cheerful, even blew Lex a little kiss. He smiled. He'd never admit it, but he saved up all the little moments Martha treated him like family.

Whit broke Lex's little fond bubble of happy thoughts. "I didn’t see Clark in the truck. He must be home alone."

Lex nodded. "Or he's over at your girlfriend's house since he knows you're with me."

"No, he doesn't know that and why would you say such a thing?"

Lex shrugged. "I'm a dick?"

Whit scowled…and pissed himself off by laughing. "You're funny. Almost as funny as you think you are. Somebody really should spank you."

The car swerved slightly, and Whit looked over at Lex curiously. Lex glanced back. "Rabbit," he explained.

  
VI  
They were in the driveway and heading to the house when Whit poked Lex. "He's in that barn thing—the lights are on."

"Loft," Lex explained. "It's called a loft."

"Yeah, whatever." They changed direction, and headed up to the loft. Whitney started to yell for Clark when Lex stopped him, eyes sparkling and a little smile on his lips that made Whit want to run up the stairs and kick the shit out of Clark for ruining his—not a date, fuck, not a date.

"Let's surprise him. It'll be funny." His eyes glittered in a way that made Whit think whoever the joke was on, it wasn't on Clark—or not on Clark alone. Whatever had made him think Lex was cute when he laughed? He was annoying, irritating and a total asshole… _and I'm already sneaking up the stairs like he wants me to, god damn it._

Lex was right behind him, tiptoeing up the stairs. Whit felt Lex's hand on his back and he wanted to slow down and enjoy the feel. Because that was probably the most he was getting from Lex tonight. Up they went, tiptoeing like a pair of cartoon mice---his head cleared the top stair and he had a pretty good line of sight, right to the couch. Where Clark was sitting. Slouching, actually, and breathing hard. Almost as hard as Lex was breathing behind him.

 _Holy shit—the cock on him…_

Lex ran into him from behind, so hard that Whit had to put his hands out to stop himself slamming face first into the loft floor. Lex was crowded against his back, hell--he was nearly climbing his back. Whit heard him whisper an awestruck _fuck me_ into his ear. Felt a long tremor shake Lex from head to toe. And he felt…he felt Lex sliding his hands around to cup him, cup his hips and press what felt like a super-heated iron rod into his back. Whit froze. For a long moment, the only thing he heard was harsh breathing, Clark's and Lex's. Himself--he was pretty sure he wasn't breathing at all. The only things he was sure *were* working were his cock and his eyes.

And speaking of working...Clark had one huge fucking hand wrapped around his fucking huge cock, his eyes were closed, his head tilted back against the couch. His hips moved in slow rolling circles, fucking in and out of the tunnel of his hand. His knees were spread wide, and his shorts were bunched around his ankles. Whit had a good view of everything. Balls, ass, cock…funny how hot all that was when you were spying on the most unreal gorgeous guy in the world jerking off. And his friend was behind you, grinding his hard-on into your ass…Whit dropped forward a little and spread his legs. Lex took a second to line up the hard ridge tenting his pants and Whit helped him by grinding back until Lex was snug against his ass, nothing between them except…well, probably silk, linen, denim and cotton—Lex began a fucking motion that had Whit chewing on his lips and trying not to groan out loud or move enough to make the stairs creak.

Clark was moving faster now, licked his lips like someone on a porn vid and groaned, muttered something…man-shoes? Whit's cock jerked along with Clark's. Fucking hell, he was illegal, he was so hot. Whit hissed and slowly, carefully, eased his zipper open, took himself in hand. _shii—iit._ He could feel sweat bead up on his neck, his back…Lex hooked fingers into the top of Whit's almost designer jeans and in one smooth motion slid boxers and jeans both under his ass—fuck, that Lex was a talented mother-fucker.…

Whit hissed as hot, hard and *naked*, so fucking naked, flesh slid against his ass. God—Lex's cock was so hot it burned, so velvety smooth it made him want more skin to skin contact. He should be shocked and horrified--instead, he was feeling drunk, stoned, and was begging Lex to fuck him harder—in his mind, at least. Lex surged back and forth, rubbing the head of his cock over his asshole--who knew that could feel so good? If the bastard didn't stop, there was no way he could keep himself quiet, no way at all. Lex twisted, and the head of his cock nudged a bit inside, and slid out again and Whit bit down hard on his tongue, grabbed a handful of stair tread and almost cried, it felt that damn good.

His fingers were going to be full of slivers.

Clark was grunting now, the hand on his cock working hard. He reached down and palmed his balls and Lex cursed, so quietly Whit almost didn't hear him but he definitely felt him. Felt him jerk, and a spurt of wet hit the small of Whit's back and crept down the cleft of his ass. He tried not to moan or even *think* about how fucking hot that was, or what it *meant* that he thought it was that hot. Whit trembled, his head dipped. He didn't have the strength to hold it up anymore but Lex was kind enough to grab a handful of his hair and pull his head up for him. It *hurt*--and Whit's cock throbbed, dripped, and that went on his 'don't think about it list' too.

 _Guuuunh…thanks Lex…_ He looked up just in time to see Clark's huge hand inch down between his legs, and circle his hole with a long thick finger. Lex leaned over Whit and groaned, "Fuck look at him I'm going to die help me…"

Whit figured Lex might be momentarily confused between death and orgasm, but *he* wasn't. He stroked himself harder, rocking into Lex with the force, and Lex reached under him and knocked his hand away. Whit let him take over, and concentrated on snapping his ass back against Lex, wiggling to get more sensation and maybe, god willing, penetration. Clark was fucking himself like—like Whit was wishing for, and pre-come was dripping and pooling onto his ridged stomach, he was gasping louder now, and murmuring became chanting and he was saying over and over, "…dying for you…. rub your cock…my face, come on me…"

"Oh—fucking *hell*," Lex groaned, and Clark's eyes flew open and locked with Whit's.

"Oh—oh—fu--"

Clark's eyes went out of focus, his hips snapped, and he came hard, stippling his stomach and chest. Clark's lips pulled back from his teeth in a soundless snarl and Whit thought that was hotter than any noise he might have made. Instead of stopping and running away like sane people, Lex's hand tightened on him, moved faster and--well fuck, Whit had been half-hard almost all day, hard enough to break things the last few minutes--there was no stopping him now. Whit gasped, came all over the wooden floor, all over Lex's hand, at the same time, Lex shivered, and much too calmly said, "I'm coming." and a hot flood rushed up Whit's back, and Lex's cock thumped against his skin and he said Clark's name so low Whit barely heard but Clark jumped and hissed, his cock flexed.

And then, the lovely magic bubble of sex burst and reality came flooding in with a damn vengeance.

"What the *fuck* is going on? What are you doing here?" Clark yelled, trying to pull his shorts up and shove his cock in them at the same time. He was angry as hell, and he would have looked really scary, Whit thought, except for the come dribbling down his stomach…sexy, tight stomach...Clark glanced down at himself and hissed, "Shoot!" He yanked a shirt out of the couch cushions and smeared it around his belly.

Whit was about to point out it wasn't helping but Lex interrupted him by yelling right back. "What are *you* doing?" as loud as Clark had.

Lex was magically tucked away, fresh, unwrinkled and his chin held high--one eyebrow lifted. He looked arrogant as hell and somehow, was not even breaking a sweat. _How the fuck did he do that, the sonofa bitch?_

Clark immediately began explaining, apologizing…Whit watched in awe. Lex had just about fucked him on the stairs of the Kent barn, they'd spied on Clark in a private moment and got off on it—and Lex was attacking instead of falling all over himself begging forgiveness? And Clark was begging forgiveness instead? _What the fuck—how did he *do* that?_ And now he pulled a handkerchief from somewhere and was wiping Lexspooge off Whit's back like it was a perfectly average, everyday thing to do…God.

Whit was totally in love with Lex...and also wanted Clark to fuck him in the worst way.

Lex balled up the handkerchief, and shoved it in Whit's pocket-- _Gee, thanks for that._ "Clark! Masturbating—here, in public—in the open, where any innocent by-passer could hardly fail to see?"

 _oh, too bad, Lex…you almost had him…_

"Innocent?" Clark glared, "You're hardly innocent. You either Whit, stop acting like you’re not here."

Whit yanked his pants up over his ass and trying to decide if the sitch called for smiling or scowling or maybe running, when Lex made it easy for him; he slid his hand into the still open waistband and Whit just kind of groaned and let his knees buckle. Clark swelled up like an angry tomcat, and Whit heard him growl--like a fucking*tiger*.

Freaky. And so fucking *hot*.

Clark came up off the couch and was in front of them before Whit could blink, he pulled him right off the stairs and away from Lex. Whit yelped, and then moaned. Clark's lips were impossibly soft…softer than he'd imagined they'd be when he had that one lightning quick thought, back when he thought-- _hoped_ \--Lana wanted a threesome with him and Clark-- _uuungh--threesome. Fuck yeah-_ -

Clark tossed Whit onto the couch and grabbed Lex by the neck. "Get up here."

"Ow, fuck—I pushed it too hard, didn't I? I always do—I just never know when to—ow."

Whit watched open mouthed as Clark peeled Lex like a banana. His clothes littered the loft floor, huge pieces of expensive confetti. "There. Just the way I've always wanted you." He turned back to look at Whit. "And you, you need to get naked too. Lana—pfft. Idiot."

"Yeah?" Whit could feel himself grinning like…well yes, an idiot, as he stripped faster than ever before in his life. "Nice."

Lex looked as dignified as he could naked and covered with goose bumps. "What makes you think I'd want to share you with Whit—?"

"Oh please. I know that you want me—I know you *love* me. I know too that you're just a big old—slut. And besides, you know you'd *pay* to watch me have sex with Whit. He's hot as hell."

 _Okaaay, what happened today was, Lex killed us by driving like a maniac. Sad._ Whit thought. All this was just one *hell* of a last fantasy brought on by dying brain cells. Ah well. If that was the case, he'd better get naked in a mother fucking hurry…

VII  
Lex stood tall and tried to affect as dignified an air as possible…there was just the smallest outside chance he could pull it off. He admitted, that "big old slut" comment stung—he wasn't as indiscriminate as Clark seemed to think. Granted, he enjoyed sex, enjoyed it very much, but *slut*?

 _…maybe._

He opened his mouth to speak, and realized every brain cell was pretty much drooling at the sight of Clark and therefore was of no help to him. And also, Clark was right; he'd pay a raja's ransom to see him fuck Whit. Who was looking a little dazed and but ready for it—more than ready. _Ah, youth._

VIII  
Clark looked from Whit to Lex back to Whit. Wow…this was like his best fantasies come to life. He wondered briefly if there was any way he could have them both without them killing each other…with just the tiniest twinge of guilt, he decided that he'd let them handle it or not between the two of them. He sure hoped it wouldn't come to death….

IX  
Whit felt pinned by the weight of whatever was in the room with them now. Clark and Lex were looking at each other like rottweilers at a plate of filet mignon. He had no place here really—it had always been about the two of them and he was just a bug caught on the windshield of their lives. He sighed and dropped his hands from his fly. So much for that…

"Whit, what's taking you so long? Strip." Lex asked, stalking over to the couch. Whit watched his cock bounce as he walked. _What? Oh yeah…so long…_ Clark strolled over, big and erect again and cocky… _since when did Kent get that cocky?_ He rolled onto the couch like he was a king mounting his throne, and Lex poured himself right over Clark's lap. Whit admired the long, muscled, ivory line of Lex's back, the thick golden thighs supporting him. Lex curved his neck and looked back. "Come on, Whitney. We haven't got forever. How long *do* we have, Clark?" he asked.

"Don’t worry; I'll hear them come back in plenty of time—we're safe," Clark smiled, and Lex fixed him with an odd, searching gaze, full of interesting byplay that normally would have had Whit's full attention but he was busy ripping at his clothes—Whit figured it was about Lex probably spotting Clark for the big old meteor mutant he just *had* to be. Big deal—half of Smallville had something rattling in the closet…so to speak.

X  
There'd been something amazing about kissing Clark while Lex was doing his damn best to suck his jugular out of his throat, Whit thought. Clark was all soft and wet and deep dreamy kisses, almost submissive once he got his way, and Lex was hard-edged, clear about what he wanted, forceful about getting the result he wanted—kisses were given but he was impatient to get at what he really wanted…which right now was swallowing Whit's dick as deep as he could, massaging his balls, and his thumb and forefinger were looped around the base of Clark's cock, sliding up and down as it tipped in and out of Whit's ass, making Clark groan and whimper.

Whit shrieked inside his tightly closed mouth. God, he *wanted* to scream and scream and scream but he was afraid of not being able to stop once he started and fuck, sound carried out here in the quiet. Instead, he jammed the heel of his hand against his lips and watched Lex's lips thin as he pulled back on his cock, that little scar was white with the pressure, sweat gleamed off his head and lips…he made this deep satisfied sound deep in his throat when he slid back down and Whit thought that was pretty nice and wanted to offer encouragement. "Suck me! Swallow me--deeper! More!"

"Pushy bottom," Clark chuckled and the sound rumbled right through Whit and filled his chest.

 _Clark, what did he know from pushy…_ "Clark," he moaned. "Fuck me, fuck me, oh harder—"

Clark took him at his word, and lifted Whit by his hips, and lifted him on and off his cock like he weighed nothing. Whit moaned into his hand. This was it, they were going to kill him. It was so fucking good, he was probably going to die of it, and he could give a shit, really--after all *he* wasn't going to have to explain why he was bare ass naked, covered with spit and come and grinning—he'd be dead. And happy. And dead. Clark moaned and fucked up into him harder, faster, and then there was that--that *spot* Clark was hitting bang, bang, bang like he was trying to win a fucking teddy bear—Whit shuddered all over and Lex slid thickly slick fingers around the tight skin surrounding Clark, touching, tracing, and then--pushed them inside.

 _Dead--dead, dead dead_ , Whit repeated in the privacy of his own brain. He felt Lex's knuckles stroking him from inside, and stroking Clark and from the way Clark was screaming (apparently not caring about how sound carried in the quiet country air)—it felt good to him, too, and then, Lex was stroking faster, and sucking like his life depended on it and then he froze and Whit realized with amazement that Lex was coming all over his calves…Lex's finger twisted out and away and Clark proceeded to fuck the hell out of him. Whit had no idea if he was screaming, no idea what he was doing anymore. He felt hot, tight, from both sides. He was in the middle of a whirling pool of ecstasy, absolutely sure that no one--*no* one had ever had sex as good as this ever.

And it was possible to love two people enough to want to…to. Be anything to them, do anything for them, anything at all…

It took him a few minutes to resurface in reality. He was prepared to ignore those overwhelming feeling of love; after all, cum-otions were just the aftermath of a grateful body, not real emotions. But it really had felt good, hot and mind-blowing and weirdly---safe,comfortable. He leaned back against Clark, and relaxed. He was not snuggling. Not.

"Whit," he heard, "you're such a girl," but it was said with fondness and the monster paw rubbing his stomach felt good, sticky but good. Elegant, long and surprisingly strong fingers swiped fussily at his legs, still spread wide over Clark's thighs, with handfuls of kleenix.

Finished, Lex joined them on the couch. He licked Whit's shoulder, pressed a little kiss there and leaned around him to smirk at Clark. "You said mommy when you came, Clark."

"Oh god, ew, you lying, lying motherfucker, I did not!"

"Clark--language! You see this, Whit? Already you're a bad influence on him." Whit smiled, rather pleased with himself.

They sniped back and forth at each other and Whit closed his eyes, yawned and snuggled deeper. He was pretty sure they wouldn’t kill each other and sure enough, in a few minutes, they were both wrapped around Whit like his own personal blanket. He hoped someone was listening for Clark's parents—he didn’t have the strength.

Two sets of hands smoothed and patted him and he'd never pictured this part of a threesome…well, he'd never pictured quite so much cock in his threesome either. Later, when he was fully awake, there'd be some questions and some explaining and maybe some repression…and Lana. He shuddered and Clark and Lex both tightened their grips and kissed and nuzzled…and he'd worry about all that later, 'cause later was coming soon enough.

Fin  
5-27-2008


End file.
